Imperfect Killing (7 page)

He watched Evans alongside her male co-presenter, a handsome man in his late thirties who gave his name as Oscar Stokes. Sean remembered seeing him on this and various other shows, although he seemed be less ever-present these days, or maybe Sean just had less and less time for watching TV. The two presenters seemed to operate smoothly and professionally together, although there didn’t appear to be any
chemistry
between then. Sean guessed correctly he was watching an early show – Sue Evans and Oscar Stokes not yet entirely familiar and relaxed with each other. He fast-forwarded the tape, occasionally pausing to check out the various workmen and rogue traders who’d been exposed, but none of them interested him – small-time conmen just trying to survive the exposure on national TV and reinvent themselves someplace else.

Again he crouched in front of the TV and searched through the bag until he found a DVD containing later episodes of the show. He remained crouched where he was as he watched the screen with both presenters smiling down at him. But now they seemed different – warmer to each other – as if they’d become
friends
. Maybe even more than just friends? The more he watched the more he noticed the occasional flick of her hair – not often, but more than he’d seen in previous episodes – and his broad and genuine smile when he spoke to her. Even the occasional resting of hands on the other’s forearm or tapping of each other’s knee if they were sitting. Sean quickly ejected the disc and searched for an even more recent one. He loaded it into the player and began to watch, not even feeling the pins and needles that spread through his legs. He expected to see more of the same, but suddenly the presenters seemed more distant than ever from each other. The smiles and platitudes were still there, but the warmth had gone – replaced by a sense of tension that he knew few people would have been able to see other than himself. And as the show progressed he noticed that Stokes appeared less than Evans did. Their previous on-screen equality seemed to be diminishing.

Once more he ejected the disc and searched for the most recent he could find, almost fumbling it in his hurry to load the player. Seconds later he was watching yet another episode of the consumer affairs show, only now Stokes was nowhere to be seen, while Evans looked comfortable and relaxed. ‘So where the hell have you gone and why?’ he asked the room before swapping the DVD for the previous one, forwarding it to a scene with Evans and Stokes standing side by side, his finger hovering over the pause button until the perfect moment arrived and he froze the screen. Evans still wore her fake smile, but her eyes betrayed something he recognized only too well –
fear
. In that brief moment Stokes’ smile had deserted him as his eyes flicked towards the victim and Sean saw something else he recognized – hatred and jealousy
.
‘What happened?’ he whispered to himself. ‘What happened between you two?’

He reached for his mobile phone to call Featherstone before stopping himself.
What did he really have? An exchange of looks between two co-presenters. The weakest of hearsay evidence from the victim’s sister.
It was enough to paint a picture in his mind of what may have happened, but he also knew nearly all of his colleagues, including Featherstone, would think he was bordering on insanity. They had their prime suspect: a man who’d followed the victim home, who dressed in combat clothes, carried a knife, liked the
feel
of a handgun and had mental health problems, while all he had was a glance from on his television screen. His attempt to derail what appeared to be a straightforward case would not be appreciated unless he could get the one thing he knew he was lacking. Evidence.
Irrefutable
evidence.

***

Sean watched Benton approach the entrance to the independent television studio. He’d phoned the detective constable the night before and arranged to meet him first thing. He’d told Benton nothing other than the name of the man he wanted to speak to.

Benton took the last mouthful of a bread roll filled with a variety of meats associated with breakfast. ‘You really shouldn’t eat that shit,’ Sean advised him, looking at it in disgust.

‘I’m starving,’ Benton protested. ‘Never get time to sit and eat a decent meal on this investigation. It’s something on the move or nothing.’

‘Better get used to it,’ Sean warned him.

‘Looks that way,’ Benton agreed before changing the subject. ‘How do you even know this … Stokes bloke’s even here this time in the morning?’ he enquired.

‘I made a friend of the security guard,’ Sean answered. ‘He told me Stokes would be here.’

‘Fair enough,’ Benton shrugged and tossed the wrapper from his roll into a bin. ‘Maybe now you can tell me why we need to speak with him. It’s the first time I’ve heard his name mentioned.’

‘Never seen him on TV?’ Sean asked as they entered the building.

‘All those property programmes and rogue trader type bollocks? Nah, not for me,’ he answered.

‘No,’ Sean agreed. ‘I don’t suppose they are. But if you can keep your critical opinions to yourself while we’re talking to him it would be appreciated.’

Benton shrugged again. ‘Fair enough.’

They reached the reception and flashed their warrant cards. ‘DS Corrigan and DC Benton here to see Oscar Stokes,’ he told the young woman behind the desk curtly.

‘Is he expecting you?’ she asked.

‘No,’ Sean told her. ‘It’s about the murder of Sue Evans. I’m sure he’ll see us.’

‘Of course,’ she stuttered slightly. ‘His office is on the third floor – room 347. I’ll let him know you’re on your way up.’

‘Thanks,’ Sean replied and headed towards the lifts.

‘You still haven’t told me why we need to speak to him,’ Benton reminded him.

‘Because they used to co-present together,’ Sean explained.

‘So?’ Benton asked. ‘If he knew anything wouldn’t he have already come forward and told us?’

‘You’re assuming he wants us to know what he might know,’ Sean reprimanded him.

‘And you’re assuming he knows anything at all,’ Benton sulked.

‘I know we’ll never find out if we don’t talk to him,’ Sean countered.

‘Yeah, but why the rush?’ Benton persisted. ‘We would have got round to him eventually. We’ll speak to everyone she knew … eventually.’

‘This one’s too important to wait for,’ he explained. ‘I need to speak to him now.’

‘Hold on a second,’ Benton shook his head. ‘You don’t think he’s a witness, do you? You reckon he’s a suspect.’

‘Maybe,’ Sean shrugged.

‘So why didn’t you just tell me?’ Benton asked as they stepped into the lift that had just arrived.

‘Because it would have been better if you didn’t know.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Most of us approach people differently if we think someone is a suspect and not a witness,’ he told him. ‘I don’t want him too spooked, just rattled a bit.’

‘I won’t give it away,’ Benton objected.

‘It’s more difficult than you think,’ Sean insisted. ‘He’ll probably read the signals you give out on a subconscious level.’

‘But he won’t be able to read you?’ Benton challenged.

‘Trust me,’ Sean told him as the lift came to a smooth halt. ‘I’m difficult to read.’

‘So why bring me at all,’ Benton wanted to know, ‘if I can’t be trusted to play along with your little charade?’

‘Because I wanted him to read you,’ Sean replied without emotion. ‘I wanted you to make him feel like a witness.’

‘Well that’s fucked now,’ Benton smiled as they stalked the corridor looking for room 347. ‘Still want me to see him with you?’

Sean shrugged his shoulders. ‘Everyone has to learn sometime.’

‘Thanks,’ Benton answered sarcastically, ‘but there’s one thing you haven’t told me yet.’

‘What’s that?’

Benton stopped walking, making Sean do the same. ‘Why you think he could be a suspect?’

‘I watched the shows they did together.’

‘And?’ Benton asked impatiently.

‘The way he looked at her,’ he explained. ‘It wasn’t right.’

‘You what?’ Benton demanded. ‘All you’ve got is the way he looked at her – on the telly?’

‘It’s enough,’ Sean insisted. ‘It’s a starting point.’

‘Look,’ Benton told him. ‘Maybe we should just leave this – concentrate on Thurlby. He’s a solid suspect.’

‘You can if you want,’ Sean replied and started walking. ‘I’m gonna speak to Stokes.’ Benton shook his head, but followed him along the corridor until they found room 347, the door of which was already open, revealing a reasonably sized office – modern and light with oak floors and desk, behind which Sean recognized Oscar Stokes typing away at his computer. If he had killed Sue Evans he was certainly a cool customer – back working at the place she’d been killed outside, looking perfectly calm and relaxed. Sean knocked on the frame and made him glance up.

‘You must be the detectives I’ve been warned to expect,’ he smiled, standing. ‘Please. Come in. Take a seat.’

‘Thanks,’ Sean told him as they entered the room, showing his warrant card as he sat on the opposite side of the desk from Stokes. ‘I’m DS Sean Corrigan by the way and this is DC Zack Benton.’ Benton flashed a quick smile.

‘I’m assuming this is about what happened to Sue,’ he told them, sitting back down, looking suddenly very serious. ‘Terrible thing. Unbelievable. I still can’t quite comprehend what happened – that anyone would want to kill such a … special person.’

‘But the show must go on, eh?’ Sean said, looking around the office. The first tiny chip at Stokes’ armour, barely even noticeable.

‘Quite,’ Stokes replied instantly, giving no indication he’d even registered the implication in Sean’s comment. ‘The world of television never stops. The shows wait for nothing. Sue knew that better than anyone. Ironically her death has caused the need for even more shows – tributes to her, appeals for help catching her killer – although I understand you already have.’

‘Yes,’ Sean kept to his plan. ‘We have a man in custody who looks good for it.’

‘Looks good for it?’ Stokes questioned. ‘I thought he’d already been charged with her murder.’

‘He has,’ Sean assured him, ‘but that’s not necessarily an end to the investigation.’

‘Really?’ Stokes looked slightly confused. ‘I thought you police only charged someone when you were convinced they’re guilty.’

‘We’re pretty convinced he’s guilty,’ Sean lied.

‘Good,’ Stokes replied looking stern. ‘And I hear it was that madman who was stalking her.’

‘You knew him?’ Sean quickly asked.

‘No,’ Stokes replied without hesitation, but not
too
quickly, giving Sean nothing. ‘I knew of him, but I didn’t know him – obviously.’

‘How did you know about him?’ Sean casually queried.

‘Sue told me about him. She told a lot of people about him.’

‘And what did she tell you about him?’

‘That he was beginning to bother her.’

‘In what way?’

‘In every way.’

‘Such as?’

‘Following her home. Hanging around outside the studio. Turning up at every function she attended.’

‘I’m sure he wasn’t her only avid fan,’ Sean said lightly.

‘Indeed,’ Stokes agreed. ‘Only this avid fan was beginning to threaten her – act aggressively towards her.’

‘She told you this?’

‘Of course,’ Stokes shrugged.

‘And you encouraged her to report him to the police?’ Sean dropped in.

For the first time there was a tiny moment of hesitation from Stokes. ‘No,’ he answered. ‘That was entirely Sue’s idea.’

‘I see,’ Sean smiled slightly before continuing. ‘You must have known her very well.’

‘We worked closely together for a long time,’ Stokes told him.

‘On
Retail Rescue
– right?’

‘That’s correct,’ Stokes nodded.

‘You must have been more than work colleagues,’ Sean kept it sounding friendly – casual, ‘for her to have told you that the fan was getting out of control?’

‘Like I said,’ Stokes replied, ‘she told a lot of people about him.’

‘She did indeed,’ Sean agreed, ‘but she didn’t tell any of them that he was beginning to bother her. That he was being threatening and aggressive. She didn’t even tell her
sister
about that.’

‘Maybe she wasn’t very close to her sister then,’ Stokes smiled.

‘Perhaps,’ Sean worked hard to sound casual, ‘but like I said, you must have been very close to her if you are the only person she told. More than just work colleagues?’

‘I suppose we were friends,’ he reluctantly admitted.

‘More than friends?’ Sean pressed him.

‘No,’ Stokes insisted. ‘Absolutely not. I don’t know what could have given you that impression.’

‘She was a beautiful woman,’ Sean reminded him, ‘and you worked closely together for some time. It happens.’

‘Not with Sue and I it didn’t,’ Stokes replied without sounding flustered or bothered. ‘And if someone told you it did then they’re not telling you the truth. I’m a married man, Sergeant. I have two young children. And anyway, Sue wasn’t the type to have a
relationship
with anyone. She had flings, but she really was wed to her work.’

‘So everyone tells me,’ Sean smiled politely. ‘I’m sorry, but I had to ask. You and Miss Evans seemed so close when you were on
Retail Rescue
together.’

‘She was a joy to work with,’ Stokes answered.

‘I’m sure,’ Sean agreed, ‘and you made a good team.’

‘Thank you,’ Stokes nodded once as if taking a bow. ‘Then I take it you’ve seen the show.’

‘I have,’ Sean kept up the smile. ‘I particularly enjoyed the shows from a few months ago.’

‘Thank you,’ Stokes bowed again.

‘When you seemed especially close to each other,’ he added, the smile fading on Stokes’ face. ‘Before
your
on-screen time seemed to be reduced. The shows weren’t so good after that, I thought.’

‘Yes, well,’ Stokes squirmed a little in his chair, ‘I had tired of the show by then – felt it was time to move on, concentrate on writing and producing. A life behind the camera suits me better than one in front of it, I believe.’

‘Each to his own,’ Sean remarked.

‘Quite,’ Stokes replied, the two men locking eyes for what seemed an age.